Protection
by BeautifulMagic
Summary: After the death of her parents and scarring of Cecile Barst's own face, she is put under the legal care of her second cousin, Bruce Wayne. While her newfound "parent" is rarely seen Cecile leans towards the Batman to give her a profound feeling of safety while trying to wash the blood off her hands. Set during TDK.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

It was quiet in inner city Gotham that night, and Cecile Barst was feeling unusually anxious. Her hands were starting to feel clammy, and perhaps from the cold weather she was shaking. The sixteen year-old girl looked at her parents, who were both her height. Her mother, a slight blonde woman, was long legged and beautiful. Her father, equally handsome with his slick brunette hair, walked with pride and held a great position within the Government. The family looked, and seemed very much so, perfect.

The threesome had just gotten done with their dinner and was walking towards the car. While most might expect them to have chauffeurs, the Barst's stayed relatively normal. They loved their petite organized on the nicer side of Gotham and did most things themselves. The family was always seen in the press, along with Greg Barst's cousin, Bruce Wayne. No, they didn't know that their own famed relative was the even more famed Batman. Nobody knew of the secret identity within the blood of the Wayne's.

It almost felt like everything had suddenly grown dark and the world itself felt deep and soulless. Maybe it was the aura that Gotham surrounded those with, especially with the criminals running around. Cecile turned her head to look at the walls, holding in a gasp as she saw the familiar graffiti that struck the walls. The color of blood, vivid red letters perked out against the gray buildings. While her gaze led her to that side, Cecile was too distracted to see the man sneaking out of the shadows. If you could call him a man anyways.

His face was covered in makeup. Chalky white face, with details to give him the true look of a threat. Of a clown, but something so much more gruesome and sickening. Her mother noticed, stopping in her tracks immediately and freezing. Cecile had continued to walk, not noticing the abrupt stop in their steps. It wasn't until she heard the cackle of a maniac over a pleading scream that Cecile turned around.

"Mother!" She screamed, reaching an arm out to the woman. Her mother was gone though, her eyes had already begun to lose their gorgeous coloring. A long rip along her torso with blood pooling out of it gave Cecile the answer. Her father was running, grabbing his phone quickly and trying to alert the police. There was a gunshot, then silence followed.

Cecile felt the bile rise in her throat along with the stiffening feeling of tears and choking. She couldn't breathe; watching her mother on the pavement dying was too much. Cecile couldn't see in the darkness, but she knew her father was out there bleeding out or dead already. The emotions bubbled, and the cries erupted from the girl. She didn't feel the hand patting her back, her knees feeling weak suddenly.

"There, there doll, it's all fun and games," the voice was truly cynical, sending shivers up her spine. It made the emotions bubble up more as she let a sob erupt again. Who was this man? The makeup on his face gave no clue, and she hasn't turned to see him fully. Cecile didn't have time to turn before she heard the snap of a switchblade knife popping out. Her hands started shaking, her body stiffening.

"You're go-going to kill me?" She stammered. It was stated a question, but they both knew the answer. Yes, he was going to kill her slowly and painfully. There was no one around to stop this man now, no one would hear the screams except for him. Her killer.

There was the noise of sirens in the back and both froze up. Was there enough time to kill her? No, they both decided as the siren sounds neared. Cecile didn't move, she stays frozen in the panicked state. Her parents are dead- what can she do now? The voice pulls her out of her solemn thoughts, it's a little quieter now. A little more intense, a little more mean.

"No, apparently not doll face," the knife is still out. "Not today at least, but someday," she froze and felt the knife and the right corner of her lip. He turned her quickly, facing him and under the streetlight she saw who he truly was. His face was distorted, two long scars running up from the lips. She was too transfixed on his own face to feel the pain in hers as he cut up, following the knife an inch above. She couldn't scream, but her hands withered in pain as he cut the other side even slower. The man stepped away, grabbing her cheeks roughly and examined his handiwork.

"Not so pretty now, are you doll face?" It looked like he was smirking, pushing her to the ground as a police car stopped near them. She sobbed then as he disappeared into the shadows, twirling his knife round and round until Cecile could no longer see him. Her lips tasted odd, and the pain was so vivid. She was losing blood and felt swollen in the areas, and before she could catch sight of the person strapping her to the bed everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Batman, DC does. Darn.

Chapter One:

It had been a week since the incident and death. Cecile had been in the hospital since the night, and hadn't said much. Her eyes never once traced over a reflection that appeared but she knew what it would look like. Stitches had placed the skin together, tightening it a bit more than usual. No one had been allowed to visit yet, and Cecile preferred to keep it that way for as long as possible. She had been watching the news enough to know the name of her parents murderer. The name he chose to go by at least. The Joker, the man with the scars who had scarred her now too.

She thought about him a lot, no matter how hard it was to avert her thoughts to something else she couldn't. He had taken away her parents and given Cecile the terrible scars that would only remind her. She was no longer pretty, not even remotely close to it, but only scarred. That would be the only thing that people would ever see in her, no matter how hard they might try and look away. She would have to learn how to cope with the stares of pity and disgust, the mumbled voices that she would pass. As for now it shouldn't matter, her parents were dead. The loved District Attorney and his beautiful wife were never to return. While no one but staff could see her, she could still see them. Everyday Cecile played the news, watching what new terror the Joker might have caused. The attacks were scattered, but little over the week of her stay. Just like now, as she watched Harvey Dent accept the place of his new job as the new District Attorney of Gotham.

The door to her room opened, and Cecile didn't bother to turn her gaze. It was a hospital staff member most likely here to check on her and the stitches. Her skin had been stitched tight, and there wasn't much hope left for the scars to ever disappear. She was different now, everything was changing. The door opener wasn't one of the hospital staff, instead it was a seemingly tall man. He wore a stiff suit but it seemed relaxed over his lean body. His hair was styled back in a way that revealed most of his breathtaking face. She heard the clearing of a throat, and looked over with eyes wide.

"Uncle Bruce?" Despite the fact that he was technically her second cousin, her father and him had grown up so close they were more like brothers. He had always been around the family, never being accompanied with one of his own, they had grown used to the company. Then he cooped up in Wayne Manor when Cecile was very young, and for seven years he had been pronounced dead. Only a year ago had the family reconnected, and now their happiness of reconnection had been stolen once again.

"Cecile," he replied with a stiff smile and shut the door behind him. She didn't smile back, didn't need to because her face already portrayed it.

"Don't look at me, please," her tone was begging as he sat in a chair nearby. The man slid it forward, looking at his niece in slight pain mixed with pity.

"You weren't at the funeral," he didn't need an answer for the statement. Cecile hadn't wanted to go, and had said separate goodbyes. She'd written letters that had been placed in the coffins, her tears soaking the paper. There hadn't been much crying. Her parents were dead, nothing would ever be the same and crying certainly wouldn't help.

"I didn't want to be, I couldn't be there," anger rose in her tone. Didn't her own uncle understand what it was like? Her face was an outcast to society, a feared one now too. It matched that of a serial killer. Surely people would hate her for it, and have their own preposterous suspicions of the scars. The girl who wanted to look like the Joker, they might say. The girl who loved the Joker and cut her own, they might say. Too much, it was all too much.

"I...understand," he didn't though. Bruce looked at his distant cousin in pity once more, his gaze tracing along the stitch lines. She didn't know he was Batman, and wouldn't find out unless needed. It was his goal as Batman to avenge their loss, no matter the cost. He wouldn't kill the Joker, only let him feel the pain they had felt. Batman never killed, but Bruce Wayne might.

Cecile took a moment, digesting his tone. She rubbed her hands on the sheets, something that had become a common thing since the accident. The blood was still on her hands: red, wet, dripping. She could hear her mothers last gasp, the gunshot and yell as her father had been shot. The sound of the knife ripping through her own skin had been the worst. When the stitches had been put in she could hear every tiny inch ripping. It was painful, and Cecile couldn't deal with the trauma now.

"There's blood on my hands, it won't come off," she rubbed them on the sheets faster now. Bruce slid his chair closer, grabbing her now shaking wrists and halted the motions.

"Cecile, your hands are clean." He showed her her hands, his eyes tracing over them as well. She shook her head though, closing her eyes. Bruce could see the pained expression that had embedded into her face. It was pain, so much pain. Bruce could see a tear running down her cheek as she shook her head again.

"But they aren't! I can hear the screams and sounds, Bruce! It's bloody all over," Cecile's voice had risen some as she opened her eyes quickly. The teen pried his hands off her wrists and took a deep breath, trying to calm not only herself but Bruce as well.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her voice had a snap to it suddenly as she turned to look at him. He bit his lip, watching her face. Bruce had to admit that when she was looking the slightest bit angry, the scars didn't really help. From the side they looked small, but as she looked him full on there was a sense of panic and fear embedded in him for a slight moment.

"Cecile, I'm your legal guardian."

The words broke her. A shuttered gasp came out, her body suddenly wrecking itself with sobs as she squeezed herself around the arms. Bruce's eyes were wide, a hand immediately brushing through his long hair. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to seem comfortable with this. He wasn't though, because he wasn't used to this.

"They're gone!" She cried, her voice quivering as her chest rose and fell at increasing pace. She let her head fall against his chest, her eyelids closing in record speed. Her parents were dead, there was no one to bring them home or back. She was under Bruce Wayne's custody and that was that. Cecile had no say in this, nor did she want one. It was better than being shipped off and labeled. Foster child, the words just sent a chill through her body. It was enough to seize the tears for a moment, Cecile should be praising Bruce. Did she understand how lucky she was? Since when did Bruce Wayne legally take in orphans? He didn't, that was why she was to feel blessed. Cecile stopped anymore worries, nodding slowly.

"Alright," she mumbled, relaxing along the pillows. She looked at her heart monitor, being wary around Bruce now. His eyes surveyed the girl once more, confusion brimming in them. What was with that mood swing suddenly? One moment she seemed upset, and the next Cecile was fine with everything.

Her gaze was still on the monitor, watching the steady beeps go by. She silently prayed it would flat line. She silently prayed everything would flat line so she could just be gone.

Authors Note:  
So, I've been forgetting a disclaimer. Sorry!  
Sorry the update took so long, I'm pretty slow with these things. So, read it! Review it! Follow it! Favorite it! Hate it! Feedback makes me motivated.  
Also, if anyone has any plot ideas please throw them out there!


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